Gemotions

He stared at the irises, their purple hues mirroring the bruises beneath his eyes. Liam hadn't shaved in days. He hadn't eaten properly either. The kitchen was a mess, mirroring the chaos inside him. The flowers, delivered without a card, sat on the table.

He moved toward them, slowly, as if wading through something thick and viscous. They were beautiful, yes, but their beauty felt like a taunt. Like a reminder of the world he could no longer reach.

He reached out, his fingers brushing the cool petals. A sudden wave of nausea washed over him. He stumbled back, the scent of the flowers becoming a suffocating presence. He backed away from the flowers and slumped against the wall, defeated.